


Hybrid

by ragnarok89



Series: Crossovers [38]
Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, 闇の末裔 | Yami No Matsuei | Descendants of Darkness
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Card Games, Crossover, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubcon Kissing, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Gaslighting, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Inspired by Music, Mindfuck, Non-Consensual Touching, One Shot, Psychological Warfare, Tarot, What Was I Thinking?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-03
Updated: 2011-04-03
Packaged: 2020-02-04 11:31:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18603652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ragnarok89/pseuds/ragnarok89
Summary: Oneshot. "Pick a card, any card..."





	Hybrid

"Pick a card, Hotaru-chan..."

"Huh?"

"Any card at all..."

Hotaru pulled her hand away instinctively, almost clawed but still very fragile.

She didn't know why she was here, with the well-known Dr. Kazutaka Muraki, or why she was playing what seemed to be harmless card game with him.

Her father, Professor Tomoe, knew him from his job, so it was safe to assume that he was trustworthy, and that since he was a doctor, it should have been self-explanatory that he was to be trusted.

She didn't why she was here in the first place.

There was this feeling that she couldn't put her finger on, however...

His silvery hair covered his other eye, while one was left out in the open.

Did he...

Have something to hide?

"It is all right, Hotaru-chan. You can't get hurt from simply picking a mere card; it is just a game. Right?"

He smiled.

She gazed upon his one, uncovered eye.

A beautiful color.

So much like...

Why?

Why did he have to look like...?

She swallowed.

Narrowed her eyes...

"All right, Doctor."

Her voice wavered a little.

She cursed herself for being such a coward, in the name of a simple card game for the love of Pete.

She reached out for the card in his clever, slender fingers of the doctor, and lightly traced a finger of her own over the edge before she held it in her own hand.

She flipped it over...

He smiled a small, but sure smile...

Her eyes widened.

In shock.

In uncertainty.

In horror.

Death.

"What does it say, Hotaru-chan?"

Her head jerked back up.

"Wh-what was that, Doctor?"

"I asked you about the card it picked...what does it say?"

Hotaru's mind went blank. Her palms began to sweat.

"Oh, umm...it says..." She gulped audibly, and finished with, "...D-Death." Hotaru looked up at Doctor Muraki.

He looked...unfazed.

Calm, almost.

It was as if he  _knew_  she would pick that card.

But...

Why?

And how?

None of it made any sense.

"Does it now?"

Hotaru nodded her head vigorously. "Mmm-hmm. It's...a little scary."

"Scary?" His smile grew by a small fraction.

"Uh huh." She replied nervously.

Still that smile was upon his face.

"Good."

Hotaru had to keep herself from falling from her chair when he said that.

"What? I'm sorry?"

"It's good to be scared sometimes, Hotaru-chan. It lets us know what we are afraid of, and how we can avoid those things at all costs."

What was he getting at, saying that being scared was all right? It didn't make any sense.

Then again, he did have a point.

"You fear Death, don't you?"

She turned away from him.

He was right.

"Yet you are a part of Death itself, a bringer of silence, are you not?"

Those words hushed whatever she was going to say earlier...

Her form felt frozen.

How...how did he know?

How did...

She forced herself to swallow her fear and look at him, straight in the eye.

Why...

Why does he look like...?

"Wh-Wh...How do you know that?"

The Doctor's smile stayed on his face as he said, "I can sense it...in your eyes."

With that sentence hanging in the air, he stepped closer to the trembling girl, and looked straight into her violet orbs.

"Your eyes hold many fates - they are mirrored, kept in every expression that you have, my dear. There is no escaping this fate, is there?"

Hotaru was truly astonished. No one else in her life had taken the time to truly, truly look into her eyes and tell her what they saw. She nodded slowly in response.

Muraki blinked once. "I thought so. I don't think anyone has truly taken the time to understand you like I do, have they, even though we've known each other for only a short time? It is a pity. Just by looking into your eyes, I can tell that you are a deeply fascinating, yet scarred individual."

She was speechless; she didn't know how to answer him at that moment, but it wasn't until Muraki lent out a hand and stroked her hair, almost cupping her face and barely a millimeter of space between them.

Hotaru felt her face grow hot, as she saw what the silver locks of Muraki's had concealed from her, in the mix between fear and comfort.

The other eye was silver and metallic, and not of this world.

She was not of this world either, which left her in a state of both vertigo and self-assurance.

"Stay still - stay perfectly still so that I can kiss you."

Her body nearly crumbled when his other hand wrapped around her small waist, pulling her up from her seat, her feet almost dangling and inches from the floor.

It was not long until she felt his lips brush her mouth, his surprisingly soft but fierce in their taking of her own.

She was rooted in her spot, or so she thought, because before she knew it, she was knocked from her state of mind to find herself on the carpeted ground, with him towering over her, his legs straddling her, so that there was no chance of escaping from him.

She didn't...

Know what to do...

Or what to think...

Or...

"Stop torturing me, Hotaru-chan."

What?

Muraki spoke in the low, sultry voice that was quick to send shivers down Hotaru's spine.

"Stop torturing me with your _silence_ \- it breaks my heart."

She did not know what to say at that point.

What was she going to do?

What was **_he_** going to do?

What was...?

As soon as that thought had been erased from her mind, he leaned in closer to her, breaking the gap between them.

The only thought as his hands graced themselves all over her trembling form, closer to the hem of her skirt, was just one...

_Why..._

_Why does he look like..._

_My father..._


End file.
